Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Ladies first

My therapist's jaw almost crashed to the floor. "You've never had an orgasm?"

I shook my head. "Not in 6 years. I'm kinda done with shitty sex."

I was a late bloomer. I didn't go the distance until I was 21. When the moment came, the maiden voyage wasn't so hot. What followed never seemed to get better. So, I talked myself out of the idea that sex was important -- I mean, I didn't want a dependency relationship based on gettin' in on. I let my mind downplay the importance of incredible lovemaking and settled for an unfulfilling substitute.

"Sex is very important. Good sex, that is. It is the restart button for the Autonomic Nervous System. Are you familiar with the ways of tantra at all...?" my therapist asked, still seemingly floored.

"The Art of Sexual Intimacy was one of first books I picked up once I got started...," I admitted. I was quite familiar with what sex could be. I failed to mention the Hindu Tantra course I took in Grad school, that Daniel Odier was a favorite author, David Deida's work carried the same essential themes, and Sera Beak's The Red Book rocked my world.

But maybe that was the problem: it was all between the pages, and not between the sheets? How can text translate to physical texture? I mean, I could identify anatomy and all, even in real moments. But nothing worked for me - no matter what position I happened to be in. Sex became the 'Ol' in & out', until I saw my partner's O-face and he rolled over and passed out.

When I got my chart read by the vedic astrologer last summer, he told me: "Love is very important to you. You were most likely a practitioner of the left-hand path of tantra in a past life..." The fact that I felt like I knew -- from the depths of me -- that there were greater expanses of lovemaking and intimacy, couldn't be a figment of my very vivid imagination. My soul knew what she needed, and she was not getting served. And, my requests for something greater between the sheets was either met with rejection or frustration. And she was done with that. Done with the lack of intimacy that failed to exist in the space between my partner and I before we even made it to the bedroom.

"Your homework assignment for the week is to have an Orgasm." my therapist said very matter of factly.

"I wish I had that kind of assignment in college," I said, and I set out to put that O back in my alphabet.

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